Whether you’re a European expat looking to find fellow European singles in the UK, or you’re a British citizen looking to date someone from Ireland, France, Poland or elsewhere in Europe, then e Harmony is the perfect place to start.

A simple swipe left, and that dream guy is gone forever; a simple swipe right, and he could end up a match for life! The most frustrating aspect about Tinder: Once you swipe left, the man is gone for life unless you purchase an upgrade with the ability to take back your “swiping decision.” Plus, this site seems to be loaded with men who are simply collecting matches and “liking” you because they’re bored and need something to look at. ) In short, Tinder is known to be a hook-up app, so you’ll have to hunt hard to strike gold. —there you are, pretty as a picture in your new profile.

However, I come with questions: What is everyone doing here?

Is this how young people in the Bay Area are meeting each other? And what about “marrying Jewish” — does that still feel relevant? In short, the answer to all that is: Yes, no and maybe.

And I can’t remember the last time I’ve donned a neon wristband.

Despite all this, here I am, sipping an expensive cocktail amid a sea of young Jews schmoozing around a dance floor.

A matchmaker—usually a woman, but men provide the service as well—finds a match and informs the parents on each side.

The parents then conduct “research” into the proposed spouse.

I’m right there in the trenches online at single parents' dating sites and on apps, looking for love and, mostly, looking to stay out of trouble.

They are helping the men and women—especially the women—fulfill the primary social responsibility of their community: to get married.

For the ultra-Orthodox, religious restrictions against the “mingling” of genders prevent singles from taking advantage of contemporary coupling opportunities. Marital aspirants meet almost exclusively through the intercession of like this group in Borough Park.

It’s a Saturday night and I find myself underground in a dimly lit room at the Hawthorn, a cocktail lounge in San Francisco’s Financial District, holding a whiskey in one hand and a pink neon glow stick in the other.

The event I’ve just walked into is Jewbilee, proclaimed the “hottest monthly party for Jews in their 20s and 30s.” Jeremy Doochin, one of the organizers, has set his beer on the table between us so he can snap the glow stick around my wrist, turning it into a bracelet.